


Murphy's Law

by DapperSkull



Category: Generator Rex
Genre: Evo!Knight, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-07
Updated: 2017-10-20
Packaged: 2019-01-10 01:47:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12288627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DapperSkull/pseuds/DapperSkull
Summary: The only things separating nanites and the single man in the world who wasn't infected with them were man made barriers. Structures could be broken. It was only a matter of time before the shoe finally dropped.





	1. Sayings (And other Unhelpful things)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bambeptin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bambeptin/gifts).



There are some things better left not looked at _too_ closely. If nothing can be done to alter an outcome for the better, looking will not change the fact that behind the closed door, misfortune was laying in wait, ready to barrel down on some poor soul. Staring down a deep chasm over a tightrope wire doesn't get one across it. In other words: Ignore. Don't go There.  Some Mysteries were better left unsolved.

The kick to Dr. Peter Meechum’s teeth was that when things _could_ be changed, nobody wanted to listen. Thus, he was left with the frustrated understanding of the phrase, ‘Ignorance is bliss for the ignorant- but a pain in the ass for everyone else.’ Just more sayings; proverbs that don’t help any more than pointing out the obvious does. Not really. They served as his mantra. As one of the Systems Experts on the Nanite Project (which was more theory than anything else at this point), he had taken it upon himself to stare down at that deep dark chasm of _Don’t Go There._

The idea of creating micro machinery intelligent enough to reconstruct tissue and bone, able to accelerate the growth of organisms to feed the starving villages everyone griped about when people carelessly threw away food, was all fantastic (some might say fantastical). Yet…

“You might be getting worked up over science fiction, Peter.” said Caesar Salazar, the son of the two leading scientists on the project with Peter. He was twenty years old, had graduated high school early at sixteen, and currently attended a university where Peter sometimes gave lectures. He was very bright, Dr. Meechum could picture him working alongside his parents.

He was also a very obnoxious condescending little _prick_.

“It’s _Doctor_ Meechum."

“Oh. We are not friends?”

‘ _Not when you called my worries science fiction,_ ’ Peter thought scathingly. It was bad enough he was being dismissed by his team, but now this boy was waving him off too. Caesar was not even looking at him, neck bent over a sheet of homework.

“No, it's not that. It's just not professional. Were you even listening to me?”

“With all due respect Peter, you’re not a very professional man anyway...”

“Unbelievable."

“Listen.” Caesar set his pencil down softly, “At this point even the nanites themselves are science fiction. We cannot yet reconstruct humans on a cellular level and you worry of Exponentially Variegated Organisms? You are a funny man Peter.”

“It’s very possible in the near future!” Peter hissed in distress, “First it’s reconstructing cells and then… then mutations or-or things that men shouldn’t toy with-”

“That’s a very slippery slope,” Caesar informed him with a boyish chuckle, “Fallacious. I would have thought as a man of science-”

“Unbelievable.”

Peter Meechum decided he needed more friends.

A few years later The Salazars’ youngest son, Rex, meets an unfortunate fate in an industrial accident. Peter feels the cold wash of slow dread when the first batch of nanites are created and used. Their son is the first test subject. Necessity: the mother of all inventions. Dr. Meechum cannot find it within himself to blame Dr. Violeta and Rafael Salazar. He is a father to a two-year-old of his own.

Meechum leaves the project for good, wanting nothing to do with it anymore. He relocates to a small apartment with his daughter, made a laughingstock by people who think him the same as those raving politicians who want to hinder humanity’s technological progression, with cries of testing god or something silly.

Caesar can only think of that single moment in time, his and Peter’s conversation in that empty classroom, when they discover the dominion code and begin to nervously consider the possibility of that power falling into the wrong hands, namely Consortium. How accurate Peter’s fears had been…

“You’re talking about killing everybody in the building over something that might not even happen. Consortium is funding the program. They wouldn’t… _They wouldn’t do that!”_ came the pleading whisper of one of his colleagues, “Can we at least take a vote on this? Please… _Please,_ I don’t… _I don’t want to die_.”

The man began to weep, shaking too hard to form coherent sentences.

“Believe me. I would have never considered such a thing if there were no outcome for my survival.” Caesar admitted with a little sheepish laugh, "Oh, and the lives of my family too.”

“W-What?”

“There are escape pods. I am going to use one to get out of here. If you don’t make it out of the lab by the time our sixty seconds are up, then I will set out on a new project to replicate you and anyone else caught in the meltdown using nanite-”

“-You’re crazy! I don’t want to be _copied_ , I want to live!”

“Get a hold of yourself, man.” Dr. Gabriel Rylander said in slight disgust, “If you aren’t prepared to give your life for the good of humanity then you had no business working with us on the project in the first place.”

“I’ll tell everyone. I’ll tell everyone what you’ve done.” He threatened, and then everyone suddenly looked guilty… guilty and sad for this man, rambling half hysterical because he was so afraid.

“We… can’t let you do that Doctor…”

They left him tied up in a closet before setting off the timer.

His cries went on ignored.

Caesar would remember not feeling guilt. It was only necessary. They had unlocked The Dominion Code, the Code of God. He was sure there would be no hard feelings, especially when death was so soon going to become just another obstacle they could overcome. There was one thing he did take away from everything that had transpired over the course of the Nanite Project which was that anything that could go wrong, if given the chance to go wrong. 

(More sayings)

(More Phrases and Proverbs that don’t help)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) This fic is for the most part completed, save for the ending, which I'm having horrible writer's block on.
> 
> 3) Usually, I write humor and light hearted stuff so we'll see how being serious works for once.


	2. 呼吸

Six inhaled.

His concentration didn't usually waver so. The training targets stood untouched.

Not untouched actually, they were battered and torn, but they did not lay on the floor destroyed. Were he even a bit poetic, he could have found a few things to compare that to, but Six was hardly a poetic man. If he were, romanticism and pretty words would come naturally and practice dummies weren’t anything pretty.

Practicality called for practice because there was no enemy (he had checked), yet his skin crawled with the sensation of there being one.  It’s disconcerting, unsettling, and he didn't want to ponder the possibility that it may have been a sign of a loss in his edge in skill. Whatever it may have been, Six needed to get it under control.

Liabilities didn’t last on the field.

A pounding thump had him aiming his blade in the direction the sound came from. He lowered it upon realizing it was the door, met with the sight of Holiday's amused expression at his reaction. Amused, but sickly.

“Jumpy?”

“You too?”

“I can’t get anything done. Want to grab a coffee?” Holiday offered with a weak smile that stemmed from her exhaustion. Six sheathed his blades, saw no harm in a break to join her, and though he didn’t agree aloud to it, he followed after the woman’s lead.

“It’s not Caesar this time.” She began even though Six hadn’t asked, "The rooms around here are freezing, Six. Both my lab and my room are so cold.  Come to think of it, the halls are getting pretty chilly too. The central heating might be  going out.”

“Is that all? Heating?” Six asked, wondering if she felt the prickling at her skin too.

“What do you mean?”

She must not have then.

“It’s nothing.” Six denied, not willing to admit that there may have been something wrong with him and not the base. He got into the elevator, and just as Holiday was about to step in with him, it slammed shut abruptly with enough force to take an arm off. Holiday thankfully, was out of  the way before it smashed her.

“Hey! What the…” Holiday slammed her fist on the elevator door from the outside. She attempted to pry open the doors with her hands but they would not budge under fingers that had only, at the most, lifted heavy machinery and nothing more.

Six did not want to stick his blade in between the doors, and wind up weaponless should the elevator take a dive.

“Hang tight… I’ll call someone to get the doors open…”

 

* * *

Calan huffed a heavy sigh.

One day after he retired, there would no doubt be a line of people falsely proclaiming that he had been a natural born leader.

Bull _ shit _

He paused in his steps, standing still, scanning his bedroom with his eyes and only his eyes.

His greatest fear actually, was one he would never admit to anyone. Public speaking had never been his strongest suit, neither was giving orders. These were things he had to get over once he had been promoted to Captain in his career at Providence.  _ Talking  _ in front of people, let alone commanding them was something he had to get  _ used _ to. It was not that he was  _ born  _ for that role. When he was younger he had been more of a shy boy who tried painfully hard not to be noticed by the eyes of others. Now. he could feel a gaze, a thousand gazes, drilling into his back. He grimaced, scanning the darkness of his bedroom before shutting the door behind him to undress.

He fought the urge to shudder.

Loud slamming surprised him from behind, making him flinch and spin around.

Just the door.

Just the door.

He pulled it open to see Dr. Holiday, just Dr. Holiday, and not the crowd of people whose phantom stares he had been imagining on his back all week.

“Captain! You think you can get a few people to pry the elevator doors open? They just _ slammed _ shut! Six is stuck inside.”

Huh. More technical difficulties? That morning, the showers at Providence ran too hot when he had just wanted a cold shower. It didn’t matter that he had cranked it all the way to the 'C.' It hadn't been simply warm water, but  _ boiling _ hot.  He had been tempted to blame all the mishaps on pranks committed by Rex, but when he’d nearly scalded himself he knew it couldn’t have been him. He may have been insufferable but he was a good kid. He would never try to intentionally hurt anyone.

“Things around here have been acting up,” Calan agreed awkwardly, stepping out of his bedroom to call up the technicians to free Six.

“Aren’t you… going to put some clothes on first?” Dr. Holiday arched a brow.

Calan froze, remembering that he was only in his boxers, flushing heavily. He stepped back into his room and slammed the door.

_ (As it just so happened, that was one of his worst fears too _ )

 

* * *

 

The walls  _ breathe.  _ But Rex had felt that since the beginning; as far as he could remember, the walls spoke and so too did the earth beneath his feet. Nanites thrummed and hummed in a way only he could hear. Once, it had terrified him. At night he used to lay awake shaking, uncomprehending, able to  _ feel _ them moving. Providence was full of computers, monitors, lights. Machines that communicated codes back and forth. Now he could talk back though, and the fact that the walls are breathing is nothing strange.

What is strange is when others begin feel it too.

There are complaints about the sensation of being watched. Everyone is stiff or jumpy, or both. Rex thinks it’s stupid. There are cameras. Knight watched them like 24/7, being the usual fun sucker he is. Of course they were being watched, he thought that much was obvious.

He would have liked to remark something spiteful. They had always watched  _ him _ , were they now just noticing that the cameras spied on them too?   _ Doesn’t feel too good does it? _ He always held his tongue though, because not everyone was horrible or as horrible as they could have been.

“You tellin’ me you don’t feel anything weird around here, chief?” Bobo asked him. It is the first time Rex had ever seen true anxiety on his friend’s face. Briefly, he recalled a fact he heard somewhere before, about animals having a weird sixth sense for disasters, and how they took to running off when they sensed there was going to be a flood or earthquake.  Rex didn't know if that applied to EVOs. He thought that perhaps it was everyone else’s anxiety rubbing off on Bobo. It was beginning to rub off on Rex too.

“Halloween’s coming around,” Rex shrugged nonchalantly, cracking open a soda from his stash in his room, “I think the holiday spirit is getting to you guys. A little  _ too _ much if you ask me. It’s kinda annoying.”

“And you don’t think that it’s kind of fishy how there’s been no emergency alerts about EVO attacks?”

“Okayyy,” Rex suddenly said, “Now that you mention it… what  _ is _ up with that?”

Usually a monotonous, normal, boring schedule was what every Providence Agent wanted. They didn’t get enough of those with all the excitement that usually went on between Van Kleiss or rampaging EVOs. But the fact that this weekend had gone by without an alert… was just weird.

“I’m going to talk to Six…” Rex sat up, leaving his bed unmade, which Bobo further ruined by jumping off and grabbing his guns.

“I’m going with ya’. I don’t like what’s goin’ on either…”

The hallways were empty. There wasn’t an Agent in sight to tell him he was up past his curfew. Agent Gideon and Agent Paul were usually up drinking around this time of night. When he was younger and they caught him wandering about, they would pour him a glass of milk before sending him back. But the kitchens were empty, and as he was going to open Six’s door one of the monitors in the hall flashed to life. Knight was on screen, freezing Rex like a child whose hand was caught in a cookie jar.

“Uh, Hey Knight. I was just ah… Knight?”

Rex wanted to say that White Knight looked tired, but that would be a big understatement. On his face was the expression of a deadman, hollow, empty. He knew that Knight never smiled, but this was too much even for him.

“You should be in bed.” He said, his tone so cold, Rex had never felt Bobo stand so stiff.

“Right. Uh that’s what we were doing… actually…” Rex yanked Bobo by the arm and turned the corner abruptly.

“Don’t think my hair ever stood up this bad since that spicy deluxe grande meal we got at that taco truck back in Jersey.” The Chimp muttered as Rex walked back into his room with his friend in tow, shutting the doors behind him.

“Where is everyone…” Rex mumbled quietly to himself.

He fell into an uneasy sleep, unable to rest with the sounds of broken up pieces of audio files he could hear coming from somewhere. Bobo must’ve been messing with the TV…

The next morning Agent Paul passed Rex in the mess hall when he was getting breakfast with Bobo. Sleep hadn’t come easy that night and he was in a bad mood, grouchy and ready to snap at the first person to tell him something.

“What, did you knock yourself in the head last night?” The friendly agent laughed, ruffling his hair affectionately.  

Rex only gave a halfhearted grunt over his cereal in response, too groggy to form a coherent response.

“It was pretty quiet without you barging into the kitchens last night.”

By the time his brain could process what the guy was saying, he was already gone, getting his own breakfast. Rex’s spoon freezes halfway to his mouth.

“Huh?”

Maybe it was that, on top of the fact that Noah had been ignoring his calls _ on _ day four of No Evos, that made him set his spoon down roughly. He stood.

 

He was going to investigate. 

Rex garnered a look from Bobo.

“You goin’ somewhere?" The chimp asked him, seeming as though he wasn’t planning on following.

“Yeah, I’m stretching my legs…” He muttered, an edge in his tone as he strolled out the door. Everything seemed normal, he thought, listening to the pulsing in the walls. He glanced around at the agents going about their business. Maybe he was pushing his luck, snooping where he probably wasn’t supposed to but sue him. He lived here. He was entitled to snoop.

First, he dropped by the lab, making sure to obnoxiously announce his presence.

“Doc! I’ve pretty much had it up to here with Noah!” He called as he stormed in, only to find the lab empty. He blinked a few times, looking around and the empty workstation for any signs of life.

“Doc- Woah!” He grunted when he was yanked underneath a table by an unseen force. He was about to bust out the ol’ Smack Hands when a hand over his mouth stopped him from biting out his smart ass insult.  

“Relax Mijo,” whispered a familiar voice, "It’s just me.”

Rex shoved his brother off of him once he had realized who it was, grousing huffily, "Caesar? What’s your problem? Get offa me!”

“I’m afraid I can’t explain everything right  _ now _ -”

“Big Surprise there.”  

“-But what I can tell you is that we’re not safe in the base right now and I need you to stay here until I can fix a few problems. If I’m not back in an hour, make sure you leave the building. It’s very important that you do.” Caesar moved to kiss his forehead, but was blocked by Rex’s pushing hands. 

“No. You’re not doing that, not this time. Tell me what’s going on. What are you talking about?” Rex snapped. That was one of his biggest pet peeves about his brother. He never had the time to give him a straight answer.

Caesar only smiled in the dark.

“I can’t explain it all right now, Rex. You’ll understand later, I promise.”

His brother got up from under the desk and walked out the door, leaving Rex sitting beneath the table in disbelief.  _ Yeah _ , like he was letting Caesar tell him what to do. He shot out from under the desk, getting one last glimpse of Caesar’s heel as the older man left out the door. Growling, Rex yanked it open only to feel a wave of something akin to Vertigo.

He was met with the sight of, not the hallway like he had expected, but a room identical to the lab he was in now. The difference was, the mirrored room was completely upside down. His heart stuttered and he nearly fell into the space, catching himself on the door frame.

“Caesar!” He called out, his voice echoing back to him in the identical, empty lab. He finally stepped into the flipped room, only to be sent rapidly falling as soon as he set both feet out the door. The floor became the ceiling, a wave of nausea settled in his stomach, and his back slammed into a lab table. He gave a yelp of shock, arching in pain.  

He sat up, sliding a hand down his side, wincing. Had Caesar done this?  _ Why? _  Rex stood up, glancing up at the ceiling, at the door he had just come through. Distrust settled over him. His brother was strange, a weirdo, but he couldn’t pull this off.  Rex slid off of the lab table and busted out his Fun Chucks, slamming them into the wall.

What happened was almost instantaneous, his build made contact with the wall, and like a punctured zit, it bursted straight into his face. It was not water from pipes or chunks of concrete, but a mess of flesh and blood that he now stood soaked still in.

The walls throbbed, Rex realized too late, in a way that it sounded like the beat of a heart rather than the slow hum he had been used to his entire life.  And then they began to contract in the same way as a heart, mending itself. They mended themselves around his Fun Chucks, latching onto them. Grinding his teeth together in annoyance, he groaned and disassembled his build so that he could pull his arm free. 

“Augh!” Rex shouted when immediately, his human arm was closed in on, smashed painfully with force that had been keeping heavy metal stuck still. He slammed his free arm into the wall, only succeeding in splashing more warm blood on his face. The wall of flesh tightened further, not wanting to release him, pulling him in elbow deep.

He tried to make something else, his BF Sword, anything, but the fear and panic made it impossible for something to be constructed. His heart was racing, he fought to free himself, but the more he did the further he sunk into the wall. He was an animal caught in quicksand. 

“Caesar!” He howled, fighting against the force that ultimately won the struggle against him, pulling his full form inside.

He couldn't breathe.


	3. Mistakes

He had a habit of leaving Rex behind, Caesar lamented, realizing that this would be the second time. There had been other instances that he did not count because he had been a child then. Caesar had either been too busy with work to spend time with him or he had other things on his mind then. And sometimes it was easy to forget he had missed a huge part of Rex’s childhood, his early teens too. It was getting harder to placate him with promises of ’in a little bit’ or ‘not right now, mijo.’

This time however was different, but with good reason.

It had begun to smell, the scent meat left behind once it went rancid, and when Caesar turned the corner, he skidded to a stop at the reason for this change. The hallway shifted in appearance from veiny flesh to desolate white walls, indecisive of what it wanted to be. Moving, never settling on one form, it created a squelching noise that was probably supposed to unsettle him. Caesar walked slower then, not from fear but rather, he was being careful. He had gone the better part of his life ignoring warning signs, walking the thin line Peter Meechum had warned him not to cross. He wasn’t scared, this was his mistake. He would fix it.

He stepped into the briefing room, where there were no alterations, yet it was quiet. There weren’t any agents present to go about their business like they were supposed to. Caesar had seen them work as busy bees countless times. Grimly, he hit the call button on the monitor, a direct line to Knight’s office.  An ear piercing whine emitted from the speakers, making him cringe and shield his ears.  
Static (there wasn’t supposed to be static, it was a direct line - no signal to be lost unless something was wrong with the wiring) made the screen fuzzy. Caesar cocked his head to the side as the screen slowly began to clear. Knight’s face stared back at him, sickly with deep circles beneath his eyes.

“White Knight,” Caesar spoke cautiously, picking his words out slowly before saying them, “I see the madness that has affected the base has not caught up with you.”

A lie.

Testing.

“Don’t worry about it, Salazar…” Knight was almost slurring, his voice flat, dragging slowly, “I got it... all under control…”

Caesar did not visibly react. It would give him away.

“Where are Agent Six and Doctor Holiday?” He asked very lightly, but the monitor shut off.

He slowly began to back out of the room, only to feel the cold slam of the door at his back. From the control panels and computers erupted wires and cords that spasmed and twitched on their own.

“Knight! You do not know what you are doing!”

“I know exactly what I’m doing.”

. . .

 

The lights in the elevator had flickered out a while ago. Six was in complete darkness, and it was cold given that it was fall and the heating was out. He wasn’t bothered by the lack of heat, though he had to remove his shades if he wanted to see his hand even inches from his face. There had been no word from Holiday since she had left to go find help. That was an hour ago, he knows because he had been keeping count. Enough time had went by, that he decided to take matters into his own hands. Finding the elevator hatch was only slightly difficult in the dark, but once he had popped it open, he hefted himself up, legs dangling, swinging, when he pulled himself up a little.

Right then, the screeching shriek of metal rung loudly in his ear as the elevator car slipped. Six could feel the box quake, nearly thrown off balance by the force of which it shook. But Six was not unskilled, he had been in tighter situations before. He swiftly pulled himself through the hatch, not without effort, and his muscles strained to grab onto the suspension cable that held up the elevator car. Once he had a tight grip on it, he did not let go. This wasn’t a coincidence, he thought darkly as the car finally fell, metal scraping against the walls the whole way down until it hit the ground with a deafening slam. His earlier paranoia hadn’t been a result of aging. Something- No, it wasn’t a something. It was a someone. Someone was doing this.

He had to go find Holiday.

Grunting, he began to scale the lift control cable, making his way up the elevator shaft. The cable rubbed against his palms unpleasantly, not unlike rope burn, only this was not rope. His hands were rough enough that it was only mildly uncomfortable. You didn’t use a sword and get away without calluses. When he got to the second floor opening, he swung himself back and forth, back and forth; gaining momentum before leaping through the entrance to the next floor where the doors would have been had the box not plummeted.  

Landing soundly on his feet (a smooth move for a man pushing forty), he surveyed the area silently. The lights weren’t working there either, only Six could see better than he could when he had been in the elevator. Stealthily, he crept through the building, making his way toward the stairs leading to the first floor. It was pitch black going down, he could see nothing as he descended. His hand pressed along the stairway rail in case he misstepped, and the cold bar beneath his palm chilled his skin. It only got colder the further down he went.

Only when he finally reached the bottom, he found himself right back where he started.

There were the same elevators he'd left.

His eyes narrowed.

“Six!”

The agent turned around when his name was called. It was Rex’s loyal friend and chimpanzee, who froze however when met face to face with the pointed edge of Six’s blade.

“Cool it, buddy. I ain’t the bad guy here, but I’ve been goin’ around in circles looking for the kid. Literal Circles!”

Six didn’t even bat a lash.

“Prove that you’re who you say you are.”

The Chimp wasn’t sure exactly how he was supposed to do that, but improvised quickly, letting out a little gas that had been bothering him for some time.

Six grimaced and lowered his sword.

“We need to find Rex and get to White Knight.” He told the Chimp, “If White Knight’s office is breached there’s no telling what will happen.”

“First we gotta figure a way outta this winding circus…” Bobo said with a little grin as he lifted his blaster, “I got a few ideas…”

“No, that might alert whoever’s in here. Right now, I need you to tell me what you’ve seen.”

Bobo lowered his weapon and gave an indignant grunt, "I was eating breakfast with the kid five days ago-”

“Five days ago?” Six interrupted suddenly. He hadn’t been in the elevator that long, he had been keeping count.

“Yeah.” Bobo looked at him oddly, "Why?”

“We need to find Rex…” Six told him and began heading to the elevator once more. If the halls were trapping them then they’d have to take that route.  Bobo took a look into the dark and made a face deciding he did not like the feeling it evoked at all. This had bad idea written all over it.

“I don’t like this.”

Six ignored him and jumped, latching onto the control cable. He began to make is descent downward, with Bobo following shortly behind him. He was faster at it than Six, given the fact that he was a primate and could use his feet as an extra set of hands so to speak.  The first floor’s exit was incidentally blocked by the elevator car that had fallen.

“Blast it.” He finally allowed of Bobo who grinned enthusiastically, raising his blaster and firing. He took out a decent sized chunk of the wall, but instead of crumbling down, it splattered open. Six knew the taste of blood well, the coppery taste was almost a refresher of his old life, and red dripped down from above, staining Providence’s clean white floors.  

“Augh! What the…” Bobo looked down at himself in disgust, his fur now dyed red, “What is this?”

“Blood…” Six muttered, knowing that it wasn’t impossible for nanites to change the structure of things, as what happened on the Island with One, when the Island had been transformed into a leafy green paradise shortly after the man’s death.  

“No shit, I mean why’s the wall made of meat?”

“Don’t get distracted.” was all Six said, because he didn’t have a straight answer to that. Bobo moved to get out of the elevator shaft, when he slipped on the blood that had splurted out, tumbling out onto the ground.

“Gonna make whoever’s doin’ this regret makin’ a monkey outta me.”

Six didn’t ask, he only carried on.

“Where are we going?” asked his temporary companion, "Knight's office isn’t even on this floor.”

“We’re going to find Rex. You said the last place you seen him was at breakfast. He probably went to see Holiday or his brother afterward.”

That was right. The mess hall was close to the lab, like they expected someone to drink some expired milk and go see Holiday. Maybe that was why they put the two together, Bobo thought amusedly, it sure helped him and Rex out in the past. They weren’t lead around in circles this time around, the trip to the lab was a straightforward stroll. The door however was another matter.

“Can I do the honors?” Bobo smirked, holding up the blaster gun. Six said nothing, so he went ahead and shot the door down.

More blood fell. It was like a rain shower, but they ignored it. At this point they were desensitized. They walked straight ahead.

“Kid you in here!?”

Right now, Six was not concerned with chastising Bobo on how loud he was being. He happened a glance to Caesar’s worktable,  quickly skimming over various lab reports and research papers. In the quiet, Six could hear something. A thump thump thumping sound, like tapping or...

“Shit!” Bobo cursed loudly from the connecting room where the freezers were located for biological specimen.

Six stopped what he was doing and rushed over, skidding to a stop at the sight of the boy that they had been searching for.

Rex was partially engulfed by the wall. Long threads of flexible tissue not belonging to him crisscrossed over his arms, legs, and chest. A strip of ropey, pinkened meat was secured over his nose and mouth, turning him a pale blue…

Six didn’t quite know what thoughts flashed through his mind then and there. He felt horror for the first time in a long time, and slashed cleanly at the rope like ligaments that held Rex’s arms and legs . The boy’s limbs dangled limply when released. More carefully, Six ran his blade along the ropes that crisscrossed his chest and lips. Bobo, right next to him,  grabbed Rex by the wrists, slowly yanking him out as Six cut him free.

“He’s got no pulse!”  Bobo alerted him, beating on the boy’s chest in order to get him to start breathing again.

Six knew Rex wouldn’t go down so easy because the kid was too stubborn to do even the most simplest of things let alone go out like that. Rex was going to be fine. This wasn’t denial, it was simply a fact.

“We don’t have time to stay here. We need to find White Knight, he might be in a similar condition. The nanites should restart Rex’s body but Knight doesn’t have that luxury. I’ll carry Rex, let’s go.” Six informed him, but his face was unreadable enough that it made Bobo furious with him.

“Well what if I don’t wanna take that chance, huh? I know all about how you Providence guys see the kid. A weapon,” The Chimp began, with such venom of which the likes Six hadn’t heard from him, and he had heard the most crass things come out of his mouth, “But I don’t give two shits about what you think. I love this kid, it’s probably somethin’ you cold bastards wouldn’t understand. We ain't gettin a move on until we get him breathing again.”

“You’re thinking with your heart, not your head.” Six sheathed his blade, “Rex is going to be fine. But we won’t be if we stay here.”

Six lifted the boy onto his back, ignoring Bobo’s unintelligible grumbles from behind him.

“And for the record,” Six hesitated, “I care about him too.”

The hole they had blasted into the wall of the lab was in the process of repairing itself, but slowly. Something stopped Six in his tracks, kept him from proceeding, and that was the same sound he had been hearing earlier. The thump, thump…

“You said we had to hurry, now you want us to stand around with our thumbs up our asses?” Bobo grunted, "What's going on?”

“Nothing.” Six said, and that was the truth. He brushed it off, adjusting Rex on his back and leaving through the slowly shrinking hole in the wall, Bobo following shortly after him. He and Bobo made their way to the briefing room with Rex. Rex who was cold, with blue lips, limp like the dead. Six didn’t know who he was kidding, himself or the chimp. Who was he humoring bringing Rex with him like he was going to wake up any moment? Six had counted an hour inside the elevator where he was trapped, Bobo counted five days he had been trapped in a maze of halls. Who knew exactly how long Rex had gone without oxygen? And even if he did wake up, what kind of damage would that do to brain function?  

The halls were empty. Six didn’t know whether that was a positive sign or something that didn’t bode well. It couldn’t be that everyone had left the building. They had to still be in the building, and that’s the part that brought out a swell of uncertainty within the man. His friends were dying all around him. He was not as unaffected as Bobo thought he was. He would describe the feeling as panic, but it wasn’t quite so because he could smash it in order to think rationally.

Bobo lifted his weapon in order to blast the door down, but before he could do that they opened automatically, revealing the back of Caesar Salazar standing at the entrance. Six could not make out anything in the room. It was too dark.

“Caesar.” Six called out authoritatively, not sure what he was going to say but working to maintain an image regardless, "What-”  
“-Six,” Caesar cut him off cheerfully, but the sound that came from his lips was choked, like he forcing the words out ,”And Bobo… “

The scientist turned around, displaying a cluster of wires jammed into open wounds at his throat and abdomen, making  his lab coat and clothes a mess of his own fluid. His eyes shone a bright, alarming yellow..

“Knew you were nuts, guess whatever’s goin’ on is your bad. Shoulda known.” Bobo muttered darkly, “Why Rex though? You’re supposed to be his brother.”

“Bobo. He’s not Caesar. Look at his eyes.” Six told the Chimp quietly, his eyes following along the chords that were shoved into the scientist. A puppet on strings, the chords lead up into the ceiling, where Six could easily cut through them with his blade. But Rex was on his back, handicapping him for the moment. He didn’t want to set the boy down in case he woke up.

(Who was he joking?)

Caesar could not say much, not with the slit in his throat and the way his tongue lolled in his mouth

“Alright, you wanna get to Knight, yeah?” Bobo told Six, holding up his blaster guns. Six arched a brow and nodded slowly. That was the plan after all, find Rex, make sure Knight’s security wasn’t compromised, and find the others.

The others, had admittedly dropped in priority, he was almost ashamed to admit. He had started off looking for Dr. Holiday, and it wasn’t that he thought Rex and Knight were more important to him than her as people, rather more important for the progression of humanity that it had forced him to reprioritize. But now there wasn’t time for the contemplating how moral utilitarianism was…

(Rex might not even be aliv-)

“I’ll hold this clown back. You do what you gotta, just make sure the kid gets out alright.” Bobo told him with a grin, “Been too long since I seen action. Now I finally getta take my anger out on someone for leading me in circles.”

“Don’t injure him too badly. Caesar may still be in there.” Six advised, “And he already looks injured.”

“Who are you kiddin? Don’t you see how much blood is spilling out of him?”

They both don’t say what’s on their minds, how easy those words could have been applied to another, ‘Don’t you see how pale and cold Rex is?’

Six’s eyes tightened, and once Bobo realized what he had said, his mouth pressed into a hard line. He didn’t want to think about that. Caesar, was at least walking, Rex was not.

The gravity of the situation was now weighing heavier on Bobo’s shoulders, thinking along the same lines Six had been trying not to think their whole way here.

“Get White Knight, and get the kid some help.” was what the Chimp said before blasting at Caesar, his weapon set for the lowest intensity  as possible.  
Caesar, in a jerky movement akin to a marionette, was tugged upwards by his wires. He avoided the blast, flying straight toward Bobo, allowing Six the opportunity to slip past the doorway into Providence’s briefing rooms. The doors slammed shut behind him, making him tense. So he was being expected. His eyes scanned the dark room, illuminated softly in green light. The power was working here, if only a little.

But when he scanned the room, he could not find the assailant. He made his steps with caution, lest he set off a trap waiting to be tripped. But the briefing room remained innocent, only darkened by lack of bright light.

Rex’s arms around his neck now felt stiffer, fixed in place like a child’s doll. Six’s body fought to just let go of him there. He did it before with all the bodies he held in the past wherein he was the one who put an end to their lives. But the paternal instinct that lay under the surface of who he was as the Sixth Deadliest Man in the world, made him want to hold Rex closer. Tighter.  He couldn’t do that now and neither dropped him nor held him, only leaving him a weight on his back. He continued pretending that he was counting on the nanites to restart his heart.

Six approached the monitors, slapping his hand on the call button that directed straight toward Knight’s office. He waited, eyes watching the entrance. The noise of battle had not ceased outside, only sounding louder and then-

_Thump_

_Thump_

“Six!” He heard Bobo from outside the doors,”Six, get outta there it’s a trap-”

**Splat.**

The squelch of something smashing against the automatic doors was heard, again and again and again. A repetitive bludgeoning noise that tore out old ghosts in Six’s closet that he thought would never resurface again. It was so distinct because it was a sound Six could never forget, and suddenly all the pieces began falling together slowly.

He had thought it was Knight that needed to be helped.

_Mistakes Mistakes._


	4. A Sound You Don't Bury

_[“The Caspian Sea Job”]_

 

He was a scrawny man, with a bad toupee and equally bad skin.

His face was deeply wrinkled, so much in fact that his eyes resembled miniature versions of his mouth, and Six wouldn’t lie. He would take pleasure in delivering this rich, wealthy man his swift death.  
He enjoyed his profession, it gave him a deep satisfaction to watch life leave someone, knowing it was because of him. A sense of betterness ran through his bones. He was better. He didn’t have to reassure himself because he just knew it. Killing only confirmed it.

He shut the file and glanced over at Knight, sliding it to him across the table in their temporary safehouse on the shores of the Caspian Sea. It was near an oil extraction site that was located there. It was there that their target would be arriving. Their target was in charge of the proceedings at the site where they were building a new oil pipeline.  Because the Caspian’s coastline was shared internationally, the decision to run another oil line there was an unpopular opinion among some.

“The woman who hired us is paying enough so that even if we split the money, it’s a very generous offer.”

Knight snorted and muttered a small, “No shit. It’s a political killing. We don’t do these Six… not usually.”

“A little too late to back out now though.”

The preparations had been made and their target had been thoroughly surveillanced so that the patterns and shifts of the guards had been committed to memory. Their target, Patrick Paxton would arrive at 12:00 am sharply as expected of the little man. And yet still something was hindering Knight.

“What?” Six asked, almost in annoyance at they waited for the private ferry that was supposed to take Mr. Paxton across the sea, “Is this going to be a problem?”

”People investigate the deaths of men like him. Thoroughly.”

“Then you better not make it sloppy in your old age…” Six told the man who was not so much as even a year older than he.

Knight said nothing.

“Is this about loyalty? Because our target is from your home? I’ve killed more of my countrymen than I can count. You helped me kill some of them, but suddenly now you decide to grow a conscience? How convenient of you. “

“He hired me once. Before I met you.” Knight muttered gruffly, “Don’t mistake it for anything else. Sure as hell isn’t loyalty. It hadn’t been that much of a pretty penny anyway. I’m just worried I’ll look like a suspect.”

“You’re lying.”

“No.”

Knight was partially lying. It was because of some former shreds of loyalty he felt toward his old home. Six knew it too, not because White Knight was transparent but because Six was perceptive and also because he knew Knight too.

“They used to pay you to conduct international assassination operations didn’t they?”

“My home?” Knight asked, unsure what he was implying, ”Yeah, why-”

“Then it’s nothing different. If you had some pretty picture in your head that there were good guys and bad guys in our line of work then I’ll admit to being surprised. You struck me as someone smarter than that.”

Only it was different. There was no agency to cover up the death, solely the work of two men. He and Six.

“Don’t insult me,” Knight ordered, “Keep it up and you’ll find yourself without a partner.”

Six smirked, knowing he didn't mean that.

“I didn’t mean that I thought this was a game of cowboys and indians,” Knight continued with a roll of his eyes,”I-”

“-But you love your home?”

“No, not at all. Sometimes I wish there were clean cut lines though. Things would be simpler. Black and white. I wish I could _make_ things simpler. I would If I could.”

White was a man who preferred simplicity after all. Those clear cut lines he spoke of _were_ formerly very distinct. There were good people and there were bad people. But these lines were becoming blurrier and blurrier now that he was freelance, not working under a handler for a nation that pointed him (much like a dog) at who to kill, when to do it, and how.

“We can Philosophize later.” Six said, throwing open the door, “Our Target should be arriving in half an hour now. Lets meet him there first.”

The place was moderately guarded, but not with anyone as skilled as Six and White Knight. They didn’t seem like they were legitimately concerned, with security guards who probably only knew basic self defense at the most. That should have been his and Knight’s tip off. He wasn’t a rookie.  He shouldn’t have made such a rookie mistake.

They waited for him, with Six hidden as a failsafe and Knight standing ready to kill at center. But when Six saw the lights flicker on, everything fell into place a bit too late. Why there was only minimal security despite the fact that this was an international situation, why it was so easy to get in.

Stubbornly, he kept his position hidden pressed up behind the shelf, listening to the sound of footsteps trailing into the room. The target had been prepared. Six didn’t know how.

“White Knight.” Their target says, sounding reasonably calm for someone who had just walked in to meet an assassin in the office, “I know you don’t work alone. Your partner can come out.”

Six didn’t.

Knight didn’t give him away either.

From the footsteps, Six assumes that there are four men flanking the Target, possibly more hanging back. It’s enough to make Six hesitate but he’s not called the sixth dangerous man in the world without reason.  He creeps behind the shelf so he’s put directly behind the back of Paul Paxton.

“You knew I was coming.” Knight stated, drawing up one of his guns. It’s white and polished, looking so sterilized and innocent despite its purpose. The weapon was like that not from coincidence but because it was a habit carried over from Knight. Just like Knight, neat but deadly like a lethal injection, a silent death. He was clean and pristine so it followed that his weapons were cared for as such. His germaphobic tendencies were in part why he and Six worked well together. Six because years of routine and training from childhood that had made him an orderly person.

Clean Kills, Clean kills, Clean kills.

They were known for that sort of thing.

“You and your partner made quite a name for yourself. It’s laughable.” Paxton drawled,”You didn’t think you could move without people talking anymore did you? Ever since Rio, whispers follow every action you make.”

Pain flared up at the side of his neck. Six’s body went numb and he collapsed, unable to twitch the slightest finger out of place. He could not swallow, his tongue felt heavy along with his eyelids so he couldn’t see where the shot had been taken from.

Knight’s careful features did not betray anything he might have felt for his partner after Six was taken down. With a mind made muddled by the poison burning its way through his body, Six lacked the proper impulse control to keep from falling just a little bit in love with him for that.

“So that’s where he was hiding…” Their target hummed in amusement, “The shelves? A bit amateur for professionals of your standing don’t you think?”

Knight was out numbered now, a mouse backed into the corner by cats closing in for the kill. They would have loved to have made the mouse bleed, dye its fur in its own juices but it’s the word of the weakest man in the room that holds them back. Hired guns too cocksure for their own boots, it’s the money that keeps them still.

“I’d expect the closet.” Paxton remarked crassly, garnering a reaction from Knight for the first time. The assassin stiffened, jaw tightening just the slightest.

“You are _those_ types aren’t you?”

Knight snapped and opened fire. The men flanking Paxton fell lifelessly to the ground setting off a spark in the men who fell back behind their target. Knight kicked over a desk for cover, bullets breaking into the polished wooden surface.

Six’s teeth grinded against each other. He could not move. He could not move and the scene before him was turning to watercolor, becoming blurrier and slipping away slowly. Six knows they’re not walking away clean.

( _Were they really ever clean to begin with?)_

Knight is out of bullets and only Paxton is left standing, not so sure of himself now, he’s the only rodent here now. Knight throws his gun down, Six can’t see anything anymore but the sound he hears is one he will never forget.

Thump

Thump

Thump

**Splirt.**


End file.
